Conversations with an S Class Nin
by moodiful819
Summary: He was a prisoner and she was his keeper. Only one thing could come out of this relationship. They just didn’t know what. Deisaku. Mature content.
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

This is my fiftieth story! Yay! This is also my second Deisaku item (Fitting was my first). I honestly didn't expect this story to really happen. It just formed after I was thinking up a story between a serial killer and this detective. It was just a one-item idea, but as I thought about it more and more, it just grew wings and started knocking around my brain until it got its way. Now Deisaku is a pet love. It shall never take over the spot reserved in my heart for Kakasaku, but it still gives me the warm fuzzies. I'm not sure what the schedule will be like since I can only write for this story when I'm in my 'fuck the world, you all suck. You're all a bunch of idiots,' depressed, brooding-angst mode, but lately my sophomore year is causing me to feel like this. This is essentially my vent. Please read and review.

Key: "Talking"  
'_Thinking'  
__Flashback_

Disclaimer: Do not Own Naruto.

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Chapter 1: Arrival

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Footsteps echoed in the dark corridors. Around him, he could hear yowls and screeches and he closed his eyes. Not because he couldn't stand it, but because his head was throbbing in pain. Opening his eyes once more, he saw the hall and the sparse grimy naked bulbs above his head spin, sending the seedy underbelly before him into a tailspin highlighted by the white lights.

He could feel rocks scrape at his knees and dazedly, he felt blood drip over his right eye. Looking to his sides, he could just make out the patterns of the Anbu operatives' masks as they dragged him to what would be his home for the next few months. Under his breath, he cursed. He was a feared member of the Akatsuki, an S-class nin; how could he have been captured?

"Stupid mistake, unn. Stupid fucking mistake," he laughed bitterly, listening to the echo. It was broken and crazed and he hoped in some smaller part of him that it was just distortion from the surrounding walls.

Watching as the cobbled rocks passed underneath him, he let his mind wander back to his foolishness. It had been a simple mission. Get the scroll, bring it to some warlord, collect the fee, and skedaddle. It was simple, easy, and it would be peaceful since that dipshit Tobi wasn't going to be there bothering him, but only 500 meters from the drop-off point, he encountered some Konoha nin. They asked him where the scroll was. He said he didn't have it, which wasn't a lie since he had handed it off to the warlord earlier for a tidy little sum, but when they started asking him again and again expecting a different reply, he started getting a bit testy. That warlord wouldn't stop talking and now he was sick of listening to anybody.

They fought. Naturally they pulled out their swords and he pulled out some clay. The fight itself was a bit bland. Despite their Anbu status, they weren't much of a fight. A slash here, a jab there; all of which he dodged easily since they all fought in the same predictable manner. Eventually he started using a fraction of the clay he would normally use in a fight, and watching them flounder as they tried to dodge his attacks, he began to relax. They weren't a match for him, but that was before that stupid bitch in the falcon mask cut away his pouch of clay and it was suddenly carried off by a man in a wolf mask.

He started panicking. The clay was essentially the only weapon he had and he swore revenge, only to have a ninjaken come hurdling towards his head. He dodged it, but not enough. He caught it in his shoulder and as he hissed in pain, she hit him so hard in the head, his skull cracked under the skin. Dazedly, he realized that the rest of her team began emerging from the trees with only a scratch on one or two of them and felt them grab him by the shoulders before passing out.

So here he was, under the village stuck inside their jail with others like him because he had been careless. It was so stupid; it was ridiculous. How could he have let his guard down? He had let it all go to his head and now look at him. He was beaten to a pulp and he had barely managed to land a scrape on any of them.

"Your jail cell."

And weakly, he raised his head up, staring out of his one good eye because the other one was swollen shut to see a cell the size of a small bedroom. Spiders climbed the walls and in the faint light, he saw a sheen on the rocks making up the three walls and floors and wondered just what it was.

The cell door opened and he was tossed inside, landing against the opposite wall and he sighed at the cooling sensation the rocks offered his raw skin. A slight clinking noise was heard and he recognized it to be chains from the cold grip they left on his wrists and ankles. Moving his limbs experimentally, he realized that he could still move them freely, but he could only go so far without the chains tightening. With the amount of slack, he estimated he could go, at the most, about halfway.

A loud creaking sound and he looked up to see them close his cell door before leaving. Across the hall, he could see the stone wall separating two cells from each other. With a tired sigh, he let his lids droop slowly closed, too tired to keep them open, and let himself fall asleep, lulled by the erratic shivers of chains and the maddened howl of the man next door.


	2. Chapter 2: Just Passing

Thanks for all the review and the alerts. I'm so happy with this being my first multi-chaptered featuring Deidara and Sakura. Actually, this is my first story involving Sakura and any of the Akatsuki. Hmm…

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Chapter 2: Just Passing

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A sharp grumble was heard as Deidara slowly rose from his place on the floor. He had just been deep in sleep when a sharp clang was heard on the metal bars of his cell door. Looking up, he recognized it to be an Anbu officer, one of the two officers that had taken him to his cell two days ago. Focusing his eyes, he realized there were two shadows.

"Deidara-san, your guard is here," the Anbu officer stated and he sharpened his gaze, forcing his eyes to gather the dim light that reached him to see his guard. Realizing his intentions, the officer brought the lantern to the bars, shining an orange glow on his officer's pink hair.

'_Pink hair? It can't be…'_

"Haruno-san?!"

"Looks like I'm your guard, Deidara-san," the pink-haired girl said as Deidara's brain short-circuited. She was his guard? Hadn't he tried to kill her before? She was Kakashi's student, right?

As the questions began to die down in his mind, he saw that his guard was sitting in a chair just outside of his prison cell. It looked like she was reading something.

"Just so you know, we've sealed all of your mouths—including the one on your chest—and as an extra precaution, we've destroyed all your clay. You better not have any delusions of escaping," she stated bluntly.

"I never dreamed of it, hmm," he said with a smile, gripping the bars of his jail cell. Briefly, he realized that his chains extended all the way to the door with just enough slack for him to reach between the bars and wondered if he was really that weak when he came in here yesterday. In the back of his mind, he knew that even with the chains being so long, he wouldn't be able to kill anyone, not that he would since it was a waste of time in this situation. Seeing her still reading, he decided to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind.

"Why are you my guard anyway, hmm?"

"Tsunade says I'm working too much, but I still need cash so I asked for a guard job and here I am," she said flipping a page in her medical textbook.

"Hmm," he murmured thoughtfully as he stared up at the dripping ceiling. Spotting the green stuff on the ceiling, he wondered first if it was lichen or mold before wondering if it would kill him if he stayed here long enough.

"Food," rumbled a low gruff voice. At the new sound, Deidara turned his head to see the back of a large, obese man pushing a small cart when a tray was shoved through the small horizontal slot in the bars. "Your lunch."

This, Deidara took hesitantly, staring down at the beige food tray. On it were a few pickles, gruel, a small fish, and rice. Saying it looked disgusting was an understatement and he looked at his guard. "How's the food?"

"Never tried it," she replied without removing her eyes from her book. Deidara felt a bit disheartened at being brushed off, but it was soon forgotten as his angry stomach reminded him of his hunger. Scooping some of the gruel, he placed it in his mouth.

"This is surprisingly good," he said, his eyes wide as he devoured his tray ravenously.

"Really?" she asked noncommittally.

"It's better than the roots I eat on missions and the stuff at the hideout," he responded in between bites. Sakura merely flipped the page. Soon, the man came back and Sakura took Deidara's empty tray from his hands and returned it to the greasy looking man. Idly, Deidara wondered what his story was. After all, his job couldn't have been well-paying and he certainly didn't look like he was at all satisfied with his work, but then again, the man could be forever frowning for all he knew.

Realizing his mind was rambling, he tried to push the thoughts away and settled himself into a position to meditate. Taking a few deep breaths, he let the air flow through him, forcing his system to focus solely on the feeling. There, he cleared his mind, letting all his burdens pour out when he noticed the slight nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He ignored it, pushing it away when it came back stronger than before. Again he pushed it away and again, it came back; the process repeating until it rested firmly in the forefront of his mind and he realized what it was. He threw back his head with a groan.

Bored. He was bored. Deidara, the missing-nin famed for his exploding clay, was bored. Shit, this was not good. Usually when he got like this, he'd make something with his clay—a bird, a frog, a bunny—something! But now with all his hands sealed, his clay destroyed, and nothing but a dank empty jail cell, he had nothing to keep him occupied. He flirted with the idea of strangling himself with the chains that bound him to the wall, but seeing how the person standing guard outside his door was also a medic, he quickly threw the idea out and sighed quietly to himself.

"What's going to happen to me?" he asked softly, the echoes of his voice rippling through the cell.

"I don't know. You'll probably be made an example of," she said turning the page. Deidara sneered openly.

"I didn't know your Hokage was such a sadist," he said mockingly.

"She isn't," Sakura said narrowing her gaze at him as she closed her book. "It was the council's decision. If Tsunade-shishou had her way, she'd make it so you'd have died with dignity. Why do you want to know?" she asked, her hand resting lightly on the cover of her book as she peered into the jail cell. Deidara simply smiled.

"_Just passing the time."_


	3. Chapter 3: Art

My third chapter. I know I should work on my Fix You story, but I can't find the energy or the focus to do it. It's actually really exhausting doing that story since it's so based on emotion, but you don't care about my ramblings. You just want to read the next chapter. Read and review please.

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Chapter 3: Art

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It'd been three days since he was first tossed into his prison cell and not much had changed since then. The walls were still cold and wet. It smelled. The ceiling still leaked and he was still chained up. The only real difference was that the mold or whatever the hell that green stuff was had grown and one night, he thought he saw it wink at him.

Falling back onto his arms with a sigh, he found himself staring once again at the ceiling. A water droplet fell on his nose and he hoped to God it was rainwater.

"I'm bored, unn," he said at last, glancing out of the corner of his eye to look at his kunoichi guard. She scowled.

"Yeah? Join the club," she said rolling her eyes as she went back doing whatever she was doing before. Deidara sat up.

"You know, you're not helping," he said resting on his elbows as his Akatsuki cloak opened to reveal his black pants and mesh shirt. Surprisingly, they let him keep his clothes. He thought that he was going to get stuck into a grey jumpsuit, but maybe the reason he didn't was because he wasn't going to stay long. That or they were just too cheap to give their prisoners uniforms.

"Well, fine then. What's _your_ big plan?" she said mockingly as she flopped back onto her chair with a huff. Someone was being a little Miss Attitude.

"Well…we could talk, unn."

At that moment, Sakura looked at him like he grew two heads. "What?" he snapped.

"That's it?" she asked dumbly. Deidara scowled.

"What? Is it such a surprise that I suggested talking, unn?"

"Well, I never expected to hear it from you."

"Well, sorry for not failing your expectations of me, unn!"

"Well, fine. What do we talk about then?"

"I dunno, unn."

"You don't know?!"

"You want me to repeat myself, unn?"

"No, but I don't want to talk about nothing. Pick something—and stop saying 'unn!' It's annoying!"

"You're not helping and it isn't as annoying as your idiot friend's catchphrase. Dattebayo? Come on! Unn!"

"If you say it one more time…"

"U—" The rest was cut off once he caught her heated glare. Never mind the fact that the pebble she had been rolling between her fingers suddenly disintegrated into dust. He gulped and sighed, raising his hands in defeat. "Fine. I'll stop saying 'unn'—"

"For your entire stay here!" Sakura interrupted. Deidara rolled his eyes.

"Fine, for my entire stay, but you can't ridicule me anymore and you release the seals on my hands."

"What?!" she exclaimed.

"You heard me," stated Deidara calmly as he placed his hands on the ground, leaning closer to the bars. "I'm making a life-altering choice for you. I should at least get something for myself in return. And if you think I'm going to blow this place sky-high, don't worry. You said you destroyed all my clay. There are at least twelve Anbu guards stationed at the entrance and there are probably more above my head, right? Besides, my clay is a special mix. The natural explosive ingredient can't be found in my jail cell—too moist." He turned to her and leaned until their noses were nearly touching. "Do we have a deal?" he asked through a half-lidded gaze.

"Wait. If you're not going to do blow something up, why do you need your hands?"

"Do you want to suck me off?" he asked pointedly. Sakura flushed and shook her head furiously. "No!"

"Then do we have a deal?" he asked with a lazy smile. Sakura huffed.

"Yes."

Deidara smiled wider. "Shake on it," he said slipping his hands through the gaps in the bars. Sakura grabbed his hand, shaking it as she nodded before suddenly pulling it closer to her; Deidara's eyes widened in shock.

"What are you doing?" he asked in alarm.

She looked at him flatly. "You wanted the seals off, right?" she murmured, concentrating small wisps of chakra to her fingertips. Chanting something under her breath, she danced her fingers over his palms, the small black characters on his hand slowly sliding off his skin as they dissolved into ribbons that melded with her chakra. Flexing his hand experimentally, he watched as the mouth in his hand opened, the tongue flopping out with a cool squelch.

His eyes filled with excitement as his hand's tongue wriggled in the dank air. Grabbing his guard, he pulled her against the bars to give her a hug. Under his touch, Sakura froze, shocked at the sudden display of affection before she slowly and awkwardly returned the gesture when she tensed at the sudden wetness on her neck. Deidara smiled from behind his prison door.

"Aw, my hand likes you. You taste pretty good, actually."

And it was in that moment that Deidara collided painfully with the opposite wall as a bruise began to blossom on his left cheek. As the stars span around his spinning head, he hazily made a mental note: beware Haruno Sakura's right hook.

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Sakura sighed once again for the fifth time that hour. Why was she sighing, you ask? Well, there were many reasons, but the reason for the most recent sigh was because of the blond man glaring at her from behind the jail bars. "Will you stop staring at me?"

"Not until you apologize."

"You're the one who asked me if I wanted to suck you off! Then you licked me!" she screeched, a bright blush on her face. Deidara turned up his nose.

"You're the one who can't take a joke, or a compliment," he replied, though he hadn't been entirely kidding when he asked if she wanted to suck him off (but she didn't need to know that).

Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes. "So what are we going to talk about?" she asked turning her chair towards the door. The sound of the wood dragging on the stone floor echoed off the walls and the doorways while the man in the next cell hooted like a monkey. Sakura paid him no mind. "Well?"

Deidara blinked and pulled his feet closer to his body. That was a good question. What were they going to talk about? Pondering about it, he said the only thing that came naturally to him.

"Art."

"…Seriously?"

"Well, do you have any bright ideas?" he retorted sharply, a vein pulsing on his forehead. Sakura shook her head.

"It's just…despite how obvious it is for you…it's quite profound. What part of art should we talk about?"

"I don't know. If I was with Sasori-no-danna, we'd argue about technique and what is considered art."

"Well, I'm afraid I'm of no use. All I've ever managed to do are geometrical shapes for strategies and dogs with five legs. Just ask my mother," Sakura stated resolutely, surprised when Deidara chuckled with mirth.

"Just because you can't draw properly doesn't mean you can't do art or discuss it, just like me. Just because I don't have my clay doesn't mean I can't make art. Watch," he said. Asking for a piece of paper which Sakura handed him, he scooped up the muck from the ground around him, smearing the mud on the paper with his finger before handing her back the sheet. It was a picture of a sakura tree in bloom and though it wasn't the quality of Sai's work, it was still quite beautiful.

"See," he prodded, his smile absolutely glowing as Sakura nodded shyly. The fact she was agreeing with him was an accomplishment and he mentally patted himself on the back. He would've clapped in happiness like people were prone to do in moments of self-satisfaction, but his hands tended to kiss when that happened and while the idea of an oral-and-masturbation combination were a good thing in his book, the idea of watching himself make out with himself did not bode well for the Iwa nin.

"Now to get started. What do you consider to be art?" Deidara asked, rocking eagerly in his seated position.

"Well, sculpture and ink painting, of course; oil paintings and watercolor, too. That sort of stuff."

"You're boring."

"What? That's what I consider to be art."

"Which is okay if you're in kindergarten. You're thinking too statically. What about dance? Performance art? Things with a brevity that can only have one life and one life alone?"

"…Never really thought of it that way." At this, Deidara scoffed openly.

"Fine. What pieces of art do you like?"

Immediately, images of classical pieces flashed before her mind, but she couldn't really catch them fast enough to see what they were. Wracking her brain, the only thing she could come up with were the anatomical illustrations in her med books.

Noting the hesitant expression on Sakura's face, he called her out on it. "What's with the face?"

"Oh. I just…never mind," she said casting her gaze to the side. Deidara hummed in annoyance.

"Come on. I'm bored." Seriously, this girl was as dull as plain yogurt, but he couldn't complain. His history of partners wasn't that great: a puppet master obsessed with longevity, a masked man with the mind of a six-yr-old with ADHD, and now a pink-haired kunoichi who could beat him into the ground with her fingernail if she felt like it. Did he just attract weird people? But honestly...he never expected this girl to get shy on him.

"Well…can I ask a question?"

"Go ahead," he said waving his hand as he sat in a cross-legged position before resting both hands on his knees.

"Why do you do art?" she asked. At this, the jovial look on his face died, lips pulling into a grim frown as his eyes dimmed. His fingers twitching nervously, he pulled his knees to his chest and lowered his head, refusing to meet her eyes. Immediately, she regretted saying anything.

"I'm sorry. It's obviously something personal. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. I mean—"

"I get it," he said cutting her off, for which she was thankful. Her rambling was getting painful, even for her ears. The vibrancy in her eyes cooling to dim embers, she stared at the floor and watched as a roach skittered past. Raising her foot, they watched as she crushed it without feeling.

Deidara sighed. "What…"

"Hmm?" Sakura asked glancing up.

"What do you think real art is?" His tone was hushed and plaintive and his fingers were interlaced. It was the most serious she'd ever seen him.

Thinking back, he had posed a question. What did she think real art was? The last time she had any experience with real art was at the academy when they had that section of how to tell original art from counterfeits and besides being well over five years ago, she doubted that was what he meant. The only other thing she could think of were the ink paintings that Sai did. She knew ink painting was an art form and though she thought of his works as beautiful, she was no closer to discovering what she thought real art was.

"I don't know," she admitted. Turning her head, she looked to him. "What about you? What do you think art is?"

Placing his chin on his hand, he smiled softly. "It's a medium—a way for someone to express emotion without using words at all. If it can evoke emotion—come alive to have a life of its own, then it is real art."

His words were awed and fell smoothly from his lips. He probably said those words time and time again. This was probably how he lived his life. Creating fleeting masterpieces that could breathe and come alive, speaking with explosions instead of words. Even if she didn't like to admit it, his clay bombs always managed to instill fear into her.

And nodding her head, she agreed with his words as the clatter of chains shook the walls.


	4. Chapter 4: Death

Chapter 4: Death

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"_What do you think death is?"_

Sakura looked up from her book—another medical journal—quirked her lip, and turned the page. "Death is the absence of brain function. Shouldn't you know that?" she asked mockingly.

Deidara rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, pinkie. I meant what you thought of death as an idea. You Konoha ninja are so droll," he deadpanned as he twirled his empty lunch tray. They really didn't feed him enough. Maybe if he found a rat, he could really be full.

"I don't know and I don't care," Sakura replied resolutely. Deidara chuckled with amusement.

"You don't care? You really should. You could die at any moment. Even now," he whispered. He was at the bars now, his lunch tray long forgotten as a kunai was pressed to her throat. Her kunai. Sakura sighed.

"Put that away before you hurt yourself."

Stunned by her blasé attitude, he twirled the metal object in his hand, letting the familiar weight of it course through him before he slipped it back into her pouch and lay back against the metal entrance of his prison. He was slipping, he realized, but no one ever got out of prison with all of themselves still intact. Something had to give. Something had to change because prison did that to people. It just so happen that he was losing himself to nothing.

"What do you think will happen to us when we die?" he asked staring at the stone wall of his enclosure. The bricks were a dark blue-grey and just like how he arrived, they were covered with a thin veil of moisture. Drops trickled from the ceiling and in lieu of them, he heard her speak.

"What do you think, first?" she responded evenly. She had leaned back in her chair and through the metal bars, he could feel the warmth of her back in his hair.

"I think we're going to burn in hell," he replied with a smile and a brief chuckle. His body wracked with his laughter, but his eyes were dulled and sad. Behind him, Sakura nodded.

"That's probably true, but we might be forgiven. After all, we were only following orders."

Deidara snorted. "'Just following orders?' That's rich," he said cynically, "In case you forgot, we chose to become shinobi. We weren't held at gunpoint to say yes. This was something we and we alone decided and we have to follow these paths and their consequences to the ends of the Earth."

Sakura sat there, absorbing the truth in his words. In her mind, they resonated off the walls of her mind and echoed endlessly into darkness.

"…How do you think you'll die?"

At this, Sakura turned in her chair and looked at him in surprise. Had he seriously asked her that?

He merely looked back. "What?"

"Nothing," she said shaking her head. She must be going insane, letting a small question like that affect her. She was a kunoichi and a medic nin. She should be used to thinking about death. She experienced it everyday, both in and out of the field. This type of question shouldn't have surprised her at all.

"I'm going to die in the field," Sakura said resolutely. Her voice was unwavering and so were her eyes, locked firmly on the stone wall between the two cells across from her. Deidara blinked in surprise.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Why?" she asked, eyes trailing to lock eyes with him. Once she did, she found she could read the emotions swimming in his eyes. They were as clear as day in his eyes and she laughed at all the times she tried to decipher people's emotions and felt like she was doing surgery.

Deidara shifted his fingers on the bars. "Well, I always thought you'd say you'd die of old age in your house or something," he admitted, feeling slightly ashamed of his assumption. It was condescending, and pretty much a slap to her pride as a kunoichi. Closing his eyes, he prepared himself for a bone-crunching slap by her hand, but it never came. She merely hummed and smiled mysteriously.

"Maybe before, I would've said that," she admitted softly as she thought of her younger days. She had been so set on the idea of being with Sasuke and dying old with him, and as she chuckled to herself, she realized something. _Sasuke._ She hadn't thought of him in a while.

Granted, he had been on her mind, but only as an object that needed to be retrieved no matter the cost. She hadn't thought of Sasuke the person in a while and immediately found herself drowning in the image of when they last met. How had he been doing since then?

"How do you think your execution will go?" Sakura's question was asked slowly, every word drawn out on a small whispering sigh. She was sad, but that sadness wasn't directed at him. He smirked.

"I'll probably be crucified—tied to two giant planks of wood before being stoned to death or dying from dehydration or exposure." His tone was smooth; his words were steady and sure. A smile rested on his face.

"How do you know that?"

At this, Deidara smirked slightly wider and turned his head to look up at her.

"Because," he stated simply, "that's what happened to my father."


	5. Chapter 5: Life

This is probably going to be my last update of anything until summer. Just got my report card back and I need to step it up. Also, finals and AP testing is looming over me and breathing down my neck. Sorry guys, hope you aren't too mad at me.

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Chapter 5: Life

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"_What do you think it means to be alive?"_

Sakura looked up, startled from the book she was reading. Today it was a novel.

"I'm sorry?"

"What do you think it means to be alive? What makes you feel like you are?" he repeated. His eyes scanned her over as if he could stare into her soul. It scared her because the look in his eyes said that he knew her, knew her better than she knew herself, yet his face was so passive. It was as if he was bored and she was just a toy. Maybe she was, or maybe she was thinking too much about things.

"I think it's existing. As for what makes me feel alive, I don't know, the same answer I guess," Sakura stated softly. Her legs were tucked under her chair, her field of vision filled with the cold dank stones under her feet. She could feel Deidara's eyes scan her once more and she wondered what he was thinking of.

"You're lying."

"What?" The answer took her by surprise so much that when she whipped her head up, the room spun, but maybe it was because of what he said. Lying? She wasn't lying. He asked and she answered. So what if her answer was plain? It was still an answer. To be alive was existing and that was what she thought being alive was about, the act of existing and occupying space, but the knowing look he was giving her made her unsure about all that.

"You're lying," he sang, "That's not what you really think, and that's why you're lying." His tone was rich and dark, his eyes glinting dangerously in the dingy overhead lights.

Dangerous. He was dangerous and her mind was screaming at her to run away for her own safety. It didn't matter that she could easily overpower him or that he was a sitting duck in that cell. There was something about him that was drawing her in, exposing everything inside her and it frightened her.

"What? I'm not lying, and if I was, how would you know? You have no idea who I am or the kind of life I've lived, so what gives you the right to say that to me? Huh? Huh?!"

Her head was hung, fists balled tight at her sides. Tears were leaking from her eyes, carving hot damp trails in the skin of her cheeks. Her face felt hot and she felt flustered and ashamed. She was getting upset over nothing. It was like when she was getting picked on as a kid. The insults were meaningless. Their words meant nothing. What he said meant nothing to her; no matter how startlingly accurate they were.

A hand caressed her cheek, the calloused fingers just barely brushing over her skin and she looked up in surprise to see Deidara's face just on the other side of the bars, an almost remorseful expression on his face. "I made you cry. Sorry." He sounded sincerely apologetic and it was strange to think of the man in front of her as caring.

On a sigh, he pulled away, bored and tired of consoling her. His head rested on the back wall and his knees pointed to the ceiling as he sat on the cold stones. "So tell me what you really think."

He was waving his hand to urge her, as if she needed him to help say her words. It was surreal to think this man and the immature blonde who asked her to suck him off not too long ago were the same person.

Flippant. He was flippant, moods swinging and swaying like branches in the wind, and she wondered how many she would discover during his stay. Regardless of his audacity, she still found herself answering his question.

"I think it's being with friends, having fun, loving, hating, smiling, crying—all the things that make you feel. Emotions are life," she said resolutely. Turning her head, she looked at the Iwa nin. "What about you? What do you think?"

Deidara looked up at the ceiling. What did he think? To be honest, he thought living was a farce. Time was very limited and mortality made living even shorter, not to mention what being a ninja did to life spans, but maybe he was being to grim. Being with the bunch in the Akatsuki was bound to do that, especially when half of them brooded while the others lived for death.

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what living was like. He was physically alive, but in reality, he felt like he was just trudging on until some higher power or an idiot with a sword came and wasted him. Living was a frivolous endeavor, but there had to be some redeeming aspect, otherwise he would've killed himself years ago.

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled, searching through the vast recesses of his mind when a memory appeared. It was of a vast canyon, large rock walls surrounding him on two sides. A bright blue sky sat above his head and below, trees dotted the land around the wide rushing river.

Something began to stir in him at the memory. The sights, the smells…the river thrashed the canyon walls, eroding the massive monuments as the dry air zipped past him in howling whirls. To see it, watching as if he was a god, was like a drug. It was an exhilarating feel. It enraptured him and drinking in the memory once more, he felt like he had been thrown into the stars.

"I think it's flying," he said huskily, the swirls of pleasure still dancing before his eyes. Existing was well and good, and the knowledge you existed was a comfort, cementing the fact you were alive, but it was a shallow comfort. Knowledge could only get you so far, which was why idiots were better off than the rest of the world. They had no apprehension, no ill-conceived notions of glory and pride, instead living for themselves and only that. How did he know that? Because he was an idiot—a smart idiot—but an idiot nonetheless.

Sakura was looking at him; he could feel it in the way his skin crawled on his arm. "What?" he snapped.

"Just thinking," she replied calmly.

He scoffed. "Thinking of asking me something. I guess it's fair seeing how I asked you something, then made you cry from it. Oh well, ask away," he waved and it took all of Sakura's willpower not to roll her eyes and scoff herself. Guess he was back to normal.

"Fine," she said with thinly-veiled annoyance, "what do you think the meaning of life is?"

"To drink and screw as much as you can until you die."

"Do you really think that?" she asked incredulously. The face he made in response told her that he didn't.

"What are you, nuts? Of course not!" he shouted indignantly, affronted she would even entertain the idea that he was like that. Okay, he was being a little bit of a drama queen, but god, it was boring in this cell. Especially after the mysterious green thing on his ceiling skedaddled. He missed it.

"Then what do you think the meaning of life is?" she asked, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice this time.

"I think it's just living it. Life is an experience and as cliché as it sounds, there are people to see, things to do. I mean, it's not like I can try and change anything since time only moves forward, so I might as well enjoy the ride, and that includes you and this jail cell," he said with a cocky smile on his face.

"So I'm part of the experience?" she asked.

"Yup."

"So I'm basically a waste of time," she deadpanned.

Deidara winced and placed his hand over his heart. "I'm hurt. You make it sound so horrible. You give yourself too little credit," he said playfully. Sakura waved him off.

"You're just saying that because you don't want me to cry again," she said dismissively.

"Wow, who made you the embittered old crone? You're fifteen. You should be trying to shack up with as many guys as you can get."

"Ugh, you sound just like Ino. What's worse, you look like her too," Sakura said with a disgusted face.

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome."

"But she's right, you know. You're too serious. You need to lighten up once in a while or else you're going to burn out."

"I can't. Not now," she whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because Sasuke is still out there. When he comes back, then I'll relax. Then I'll burn out. But I'm not resting until we get him back. I can't afford to…"

Her body was trembling, her tears caught in the gleam of dim overhead lights. She was trying not to cry, and failing miserably.

"Why do you care so much about him? He left you guys and every time I see you guys, he's all you can talk about. You have to take a break, pinkie. Even I can see that."

"No."

"No?"

"No," she repeated. Deidara shook his head and sighed.

"You stupid girl. Give it up. You're wasting your time. He's not coming back."

A strangled gasp left his lips as his shirt was grabbed, his chest colliding with the iron bars of his cage. His eyes stared up at her emerald ones, watching the fire burn in her gaze. She was livid.

"You weren't there when he left! You didn't love him the way I did!" she shouted. And as if just realizing the brunt of her words, she began to crumple before his eyes. "He was right in front of me and I couldn't even stop him…

"Sasuke-kun will come back and don't you dare say otherwise," she hissed, her grip on him becoming knuckle-white. She could feel her lip trembling as tears stung her eyes. Damn it, she was crying. Damn it, she was crying in front of him.

Of course she knew Sasuke wasn't coming back. It was a thought that had been in her head ever since he left. What if he didn't come back? What if he didn't want to? Those questions haunted her mind every night and even if she didn't like to admit it, a part of her had already signed Sasuke to his fate. He was never coming back. No matter how hard they trained and how hard they tried, he would never come back.

But to hear it from Deidara was a crippling dose of reality to her. Even if she had accepted that fact, it was different hearing it from another person. She had been living with a dream that Sasuke would come back one day, but suddenly faced with the fact he might never come back was startling for her. Whenever she had that thought, she was prepared with reasons and excuses, but what excuse did she have now? What could she say to this?

'Is it really that obvious?' That was the question that echoed through her mind. Was it that obvious that she was only believing what she wanted? Was it that easy to see that he wasn't coming back? Was it really that obvious?

Deidara watched as she warred with herself. Faces were constantly moving over her, fighting and overlapping as she processed the words in her mind. Slowly, a readable expression bloomed and he could see what she was thinking. She was thinking about what he said and realized something, and with it, he could see her begin to break down. The shred of hope she had wrapped herself in was gone now and she was at odds with herself about what to do.

She was at a crossroads, torn between believing it and denying it as she bled out her emotions in the form of tears. She had struggled so long and he could see she had been crying every night from the scars he'd left on her heart.

The dam had broken and he could see all the pent-up emotions pouring out in torrents; her hatred, her bitterness, her fear, her love, her sorrow, her guilt. She was too young to have to feel that and when the flood slowed to a trickle, he looked into her eyes and found them hollow, the tears coming out in emotionless streams. It was over. She had lost.

Her hands lost their grip on him and she crumpled to the floor, her knees colliding with the stones as she swayed and stared aimlessly at his legs. The water continued to flow down her cheeks and stain her clothing, hiccups wracking her chest. A wave of pity washed over him. He shouldn't have said anything.

"Sakura…"

At her name, she raised her head, her body convulsing with sniffles and hiccups as she stared at the blonde speaker who could not meet her gaze.

"Sakura, I'm—"

"I miss him."

Her confession caught him off-guard and he choked on the breath of air he took. Pounding his chest, he looked up to see her staring aimlessly at him, tears trickling down the sides of her face. "I'm sorry?" he asked.

"Sasuke-kun. I miss him. I miss Sasuke-kun. _Sasuke…_"

Memories flashed before her eyes. They lashed out at her in a flurry of color and sound. They were all the memories she had of Sasuke, the good and the bad. The mission with Tazuna, the image of Sasuke lying on that bridge looking so cold and still was burned into her corneas. And at the Chuunin Exams when Sasuke gave into the curse seal. She remembered watching in horror as he broke Zaku's arms. The bloodlust in his eyes was inhuman and it frightened her.

Maybe that was when she should've realized that their paths were different. He had said it so many times that he was an avenger, but she had clung selfishly onto him in hopes of changing him for the better. Maybe it was her fault that she got hurt.

"Sasuke…Sasuke…and Naruto…"

Oh god, what had she done to Naruto? All he ever did was like her, but she had treated him so badly. And he even offered to get Sasuke back for her, even though he knew that if Sasuke did come back, he'd never have a chance with Sakura.

Sobs began to wrack her chest. She didn't deserve to be friends with him, let alone have him like her.

"Sasuke…I miss Sasuke…I miss Naruto…I miss everyone so much…I'm sorry, everyone. I'm so sorry…"

The swish of fabric echoed through the hallways as a cloak was wrapped around her shoulders and a hand touched her head, and she paused for a moment to look up. It was Deidara's. It was Deidara's hand that was touching her, but it was warm and comforting and she was too tired to care.

She pressed into his hand, shifting closer to the bars as she threw her arms around him and he did the same. Her grime-covered hands roamed his back, smearing it over his skin as she sought comfort in him, sobbing incoherently into his chest through the gaps in the bars. He patted her head.

"I miss them," she whispered against his skin. Deidara sighed and rubbed slow circles into her back.

"_Everyone misses someone, Sakura..."_


	6. Chapter 6: Morals

I'm finding myself falling more and more in love with Deisaku. Future fics between these two is now an option. Hooray! :D

And thank you for all the reviews! I do read them, and they help me keep going. As for why I don't reply to every review, I figured you'd all get annoyed with me saying 'thank you' over and over again. :/

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Chapter Six: Morals

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Deidara was coughing into his chest when Sakura entered the prison ward. A worried look in her eyes, she opened his cell. Slipping inside, she knelt on the ground. The first words out of her mouth were, "Let me heal you."

Not that he could refuse. It hurt just to breathe and he gasped, then sighed in relief when he felt her chakra thread through his cracked ribs, falling quiet with her gentle shush.

"I see Danzou worked you over," Sakura said with grim humor as she lifted his shirt, wincing at the deep bruises splotched over his skin. Though Ibiki was usually the lead interrogator, Danzou had personally volunteered to be the interrogator for Deidara. Deidara let out a breathy chuckle.

"He did. Started getting rough when all he got out of me was that his mother was a cheap fuck. I'm surprised he even has a mother," he said and let the corners of his mouth lift as Sakura attempted a frown to cover up her own smile before shaking it off.

"That wasn't nice."

"You wouldn't be either if you went through what I did," he said showing her the circular burn marks on his torso. The interrogation squad had collected him from his cell three days ago. Now it was a Tuesday, and if memory served him correctly, he'd been here for roughly two weeks.

"You Konoha people sure are a bunch of sadists. Especially those ROOT people. I'm surprised they didn't just rape me as the cherry on top."

"They only want information. Even they wouldn't be so stupid or arrogant to do that," Sakura said as she probed his side for internal bleeding.

Deidara smiled. "Could've fooled me. Konoha's full of jerks. I hope you fuckers all die—except you though. I'd save you before I blew this shit-hole sky high."

Sakura merely let his rambling fall over her ears. Like with any interrogation—even with an S-rank nin—they had drugged him. It was supposed to make them lucid so they wouldn't fight back and while they still felt pain, their cognitive abilities were always slightly impaired, including an inability to filter their words, making interrogation easier. How did she know this? Because she'd had to treat many an unlucky shinobi who had accidently pricked themselves with the drug while delivering it.

Still…

"As sweet as the idea is of you sparing me in your mass mayhem, we aren't all bad," she replied.

The blonde snorted derisively. "You're the only kind face I see here."

"Well, I'm not the only nice one here. Tsunade-sama is quite nice when she isn't drinking and you aren't on her bad side; and Naruto—that idiot is nice to practically everyone," she said with a roll of her eyes, unaware of the blue eyes trained on her face. She hadn't even been aware of him until he spoke.

"You know, I'm surprised at you. I mean, you're a nice, sweet girl and you're a _kunoichi?_ Let alone the fact you're still alive. How do you do it?" His voice was one of genuine wonder and he stared at her attentively. Sakura merely shrugged.

"Not everyone is evil, Deidara," Sakura reasoned as she took out a roll of bandages from her pack, "they just need love."

As she said this, her nimble fingers unrolled the bandages and wrapped them around his torso, dancing across his skin to leave white cotton in its wake. He had barely felt her touch, but her body near his let him feel her warmth. It was a stark contrast to the cold slick gloves of the ROOT nin who had pressed the heated metal rod to his skin and the even colder feeling that ran through him when Danzou grasped his chin and looked at him. Danzou…that man's touch was too unfeeling to be called human. But Sakura's…her touch was warm. It was a reminder of her humanity and Deidara enjoyed the odd comfort that gave him.

Finishing the roll, she made a small knot at his side before lowering his shirt and looking at him. The smile on her face made him think of the sun.

"Haven't you ever felt that way?" she asked, "like you just had to help someone?" The dazzling glitter in her eyes told him that she felt this all the time—that she could find good in everyone and everything, that the world was a just, kind place and everything would turn out okay in the end. As for him, his gaze darkened and a bitter chuckle escaped his lips.

"What's so funny?"

"You," he said with dark contempt as he reclined against the wall and looked up at her, holding her gaze. "You're such a dreamer. Do you honestly believe that there's good in everyone?"

"Am I supposed to believe that there's not?" she shot back, arms folding over her chest as she stared him down. His eyes held hers with equal conviction. Her eyes narrowed and acid leaked into her tone. "You can't tell me that you've never felt that way before. Everyone has at one point or another."

"You're right. I have felt that way before."

At his admittance, Sakura jumped with a visible start. Obviously she hadn't expected his answer, nor for it to have come so easily, but her expression recovered quite easily and she looked down at him dispassionately.

"You have?"

Deidara nodded. His bangs fell over his face, creating a shadow; his eyes did not meet her as he spoke.

"I was fourteen. By that time, I had already been travelling on my own for a year and had gained quite the reputation as an assassin for hire. Believe it or not, I was just like you at your age," he said. This time, he looked at her, his eyes gliding over hers like smooth-scaled snakes. His lips were the cross between a bitter laugh and a mocking smile, and meeting his gaze, she thought she saw something flicker over his eyes, but before she could guess what it was, it was gone and his gaze was unreadable once more. He continued.

"Like you, I was a shinobi, and like you, I was idealistic—a bleeding heart. I saw the beauty in everything, and the good in every person, but that was before I went to _that_ village."

At the memory, his eyes became wistful; his lips curled into a mysterious smile. "It was a cloudy day. I was on my way to the Iwa-Grass border when I smelled a faint acrid smell in the air and went to investigate. After travelling for ten minutes, I stumbled upon the remains of a small village. Like my own village, it had been burnt to the ground—just another casualty of war in my country.

"Looking around, I began investigating. There was nothing salvageable; the houses had all been destroyed and all that remained among the burnt rubble was cracked porcelain and photos half-consumed by fire. The corpses of men, women, and children were everywhere. The smell of blood and fecal matter mixed with the smell of a few still-burning fires, and judging from the body positions, the men and women had been raped while watching their children being disemboweled.

"I went around doing what I could: closing eyelids, covering bodies, when I heard something. In the middle of a burnt hut was a child with brown hair who was crying. Immediately, I went over to him and tried to look him over as he told me what had happened. He said that a group of shinobi had come to the village the night before and ransacked the village. He was the only survivor.

"Of course, I had felt bad for the kid and acted just like any compassionate person. I told him I'd take him with me, and drop him off at the next village I saw. He happily agreed and reached up to hug me. Because of our height difference, I leaned down to pick him up when I felt something scratch me. Looking down, I saw a bloodied kunai in his hand and pressing my hand to my wound, I realized that the kid had slashed my cheek going for my neck. After that, autopilot took over and I had my first child casualty.

"I learned later that the kid was part of the group that had ransacked the village. They had been hired to deal with me and tracking my movements, they attacked a nearby village, knowing I would go investigate and left him there for me to find so they could kill me. Once I was dead, they'd pick the kid up and give him a cut of the profits made off the bounty on my head. To make himself more convincing, the boy stole the clothes off of one of the corpses and before draining one of the bodies to smear the blood on himself."

Deidara turned to her and unlike the jovial idiot that she had met when he first arrived, Deidara's features were serious as he held her gaze. His eyes were narrowed and his nostrils flared with the barely-contained rage radiating off his body.

"That kid was only four years old. Now you tell me if you still believe that there's good in everyone."

Sakura couldn't even open her mouth.


	7. Chapter 7: Fear

You know what's really weird? I did not read Deidara's bio at all and yet my storyline has managed to coincide with the canon history for him. It's so freaky!

And I got my wisdom teeth out. I ache everywhere in my face. It sucks. But thank you for all of my reviews. Especially fanofthisfiction for reviewing _every_ single chapter. That is dedication, I swear. **(And I meant to post this earlier, but I forgot to with the whirl of trying to finish summer homework. Sorry!)

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Chapter 7: Fear

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"What are you afraid of?"

The question was posed by Sakura, her brows knit in concentration as she tried to decipher the blonde prisoner she'd spent the last two months with. Despite all their time and conversations together, she felt she had barely scratched the surface. Who knew the idiot blonde of the Akatsuki could be so complex?

Deidara pulled his gaze from the ceiling to look at her. He'd been tracing patterns in the water droplets pooling on the ceiling after watching them drip onto the floor got boring. It was sad how this was probably the closest thing he had to a starry night sky, but that thought was cut short when a droplet landed on his nose. He flinched. It was cold.

"Think I was born yesterday? If I told you, you'd tell Danzou to try and get me to talk. I'm not telling you."

Sakura rolled her eyes. They both knew she wouldn't do that—she had as much dislike towards the scarred man as Deidara had—but it appeared that Deidara was in one of his moods again. Since the beginning of his imprisonment, Sakura found that there were days when Deidara would be…difficult. That was a good way to describe it, difficult. In any event, it was during these "moods" that Deidara would become snappish and resist any attempts for their many conversations. If she didn't know any better, she would've sworn Deidara was having a PMS-fit. She sighed.

"I'm not going to tell him. You and I both know that," she said in exasperation. She hated Danzou enough already. The pompous way he carried himself got on her nerves. Having to talk to him would surely end up with him being blown through a wall.

As if reading her thoughts, Deidara sniggered to himself. "You were having that fantasy about punching him through a wall again, weren't you?"

Sakura didn't say anything, but she let a smile tug at her lips, sending Deidara backwards howling with laughter. Sakura let a few chuckles of her own come out. She wasn't surprised he knew. She had let it slip on one occasion after Deidara came back from another interrogation session with the man. Though she'd had very few interactions with him when she sat in on meetings with Tsunade, she had to hand it to Danzou. He was quite the ass if he could send Tsunade into a drinking binge after just one five-minute meeting.

"Okay…" said Deidara still chortling. He wiped a tear from his eye. "I'm in a better mood now," he stated. Rocking forward, he crossed his legs and held his ankles and looked at her expectantly. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"What are you afraid of?" she repeated. "Are you afraid of anything?"

Deidara blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…I've been with you for two months and I've never seen you freak out at anything! Is there nothing you're afraid of?"

Seeing her frazzled appearance, it seemed that this had been plaguing her mind for a while. He chuckled.

"I'm flattered, Sakura-chan," he told her sincerely, a smile on his face, "but you should know that everyone is afraid of something. Even me."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" she asked curiously, scooting her stool closer to the bars. Deidara shook his head.

"Asker goes first," he insisted. Sakura tensed and laughed nervously.

"Me first, huh?"

Deidara nodded.

"I…I'm afraid of the dark."

Deidara narrowed his eyes and scoffed. "Yeah right. You wouldn't be fit to call yourself a kunoichi if you couldn't handle that, so stop lying to me, pinkie."

Sakura huffed. "How would you know that I'm lying?" she asked defensively. Deidara rested his face on his hand and sighed.

"Well, first off...you don't make eye contact. Second, your voice becomes slightly higher. And thirdly, your left eyebrow twitches for a second," he said marking off the signs with his fingers. Sakura frowned. She'd have to work on masking those things before her next mission.

"That being said," he continued, "you were lying to me. So spill." His visible eye stared at her eagerly as his voice dropped to a dark tone. "What is your deepest fear?"

Sakura bit her lip nervously. Unwanted, she could feel her heart rate jump, the organ thump-thumping against her ribcage as she weighed her indecision. Should she tell him? Sure, Deidara was a S-class killer and enemy shinobi and years of training told her not to trust him, but he was also somewhat of a friend, and the things they talked about held such weight that she found herself enjoying their conversations. She never talked like this with Ino and by giving his own secrets, she felt like she could give up her own.

This relationship of theirs was built on conversation and secrets. There were few fallacies between them. If the circumstances had been different, they would still be mortal enemies bent on killing each other, but the circumstances were not different. He was a prisoner and she was his warden. Due to this situation, a relationship formed. They were dependent on one another for company and conversation, an escape from where they were. She had no delusions that it was anything different, but they both knew that there was a vague friendship between them.

But maybe it wasn't so vague. She knew Deidara was using her as a toy to pass the time with—he'd said so himself when they began this relationship—but one did not divulge dark hidden secrets with toys, so maybe he trusted her more than she gave herself credit for. After all, Deidara was opening himself up to her, allowing himself to become vulnerable. So shouldn't she return the favor?

Sakura inhaled a few breaths to steady her too-taut nerves and blew them out slowly as she opened and closed her hands to release her stress. Knees to her chest, perched precariously on her chair, she told him. "I'm afraid of being alone."

Her eyes had lost the shine he had come to associate with her. Her face was weary and defeated. She looked like a wilted shadow of her namesake and instantly, Deidara thought of groves of sakura trees after their explosions of bloom. The petals were torn and dirty, rolling in the dirt and streets while the trees hung still and ominously bare. It was heart-breaking to see her like this.

He reached out to her through the bars and gently placed a comforting hand on her knee. She glanced up from the crook she had hidden her face in and gave a small smile of gratitude. Deidara, despite being a quick-tempered brat, could be surprisingly sweet sometimes and it made her heart ache as she thought of another blonde who was sweet to her.

Uzumaki Naruto was an annoying knucklehead of a ninja. With his flamboyant taste in color for clothing and his booming voice, he was guaranteed to fail any reconnaissance mission, but still, she couldn't hate him. She had no right to when all he ever did was love her enough to want to give her the world. Even at age twelve, he'd understood the grave implication of his words. He promised to bring back Sasuke, but if he were to succeed, Sakura would almost surely choose the broken Uchiha over him.

And yet, he still pushed forward. He'd almost gotten killed the first time and he was still trying to get him back, even now. Though she wasn't as conceited as to believe it was solely for her that he was bringing Sasuke back, Sakura was both touched and humbled by the depth of love and devotion he showed towards her, but she couldn't return his feelings. She doubted she ever would be able to. Sasuke's defection had broken more of her than either were willing to admit. If the circumstances had been different, she might have fallen for Naruto, loved him as much as he loved her. But things weren't as perfect as that. Sasuke's defection has torn a chasm in her heart that she would spend the rest of her life trying to fix. Love had no place in her heart now.

"Come on, pinkie. Who'd ever leave a girl like you alone?" His words were meant to be a comfort, but both knew it wouldn't work. The comment was too shallow to do much good. It was like applying salve to ruptured organs; it just wouldn't work. But still, the thought was touching and she pulled herself together long enough to smile at him without letting the irony show. Many people had already left her.

She rifled through the names and faces in her mind. Some had become blurred by time; she didn't remember half of the one-day friends she'd met during the early years of the Academy. Some people managed to stick though, like Ino. Ino had been one of the big losses in her life. She had lost the only girl to approach and befriend her when she was little and the subject of playground mockery. She had helped Sakura become more confident in herself, helped push her along and encourage her when she had been too afraid to do it herself. She was part of the reason why Sakura wanted to be a kunoichi, and she lost that friend to a boy.

Lee was another loss. Though she knew he had a duty to his own team, she was sad to see him go train with his team. Despite his self-proclaimed love towards her and all the help and support he'd given her, his bond with Team Gai was special. Gai-sensei, Neji, and Tenten were a family to him, and it made her heart ache to know Team 7, no matter how similar, would never be that picture-perfect.

Sasuke was a given loss. Many people had lost him just like how he lost many people. Still, though in the back of her mind she knew this was always a possibility—a probability—a reality, it didn't prepare her any better for the actual heart-crushing night he left. Naruto, on the other hand, was a different story.

Naruto had stuck by her since the Academy. She knew he loved her, she'd have to be blind not to. She already knew he'd do anything for her, but those three years away with Jiraiya had taught her something. He was her crutch; she depended on him more than she was willing to admit and it frightened her to lose him like she lost Sasuke. What was Team 7 without Sasuke _and_ Naruto? What was _she_ without Sasuke and Naruto? One member lost was enough; having both gone would be a nightmare she'd never want to know.

"I don't want them to leave me…" She didn't want anyone to leave her. She was a weak, selfish child. She'd clung shamelessly to the strength of others, and though she had learned to stand on her own two legs, she didn't know what would happen if they were to all leave her at once. She could handle Sasuke because she knew she'd get him back, if not her alone, then with the help of others.

But what if the others left too? She loved them, loved them like she loved Sasuke. But Sasuke had left; love hadn't been enough then. Even now, love wasn't enough. They were all bound for different paths. One day, their paths would split and Ino, Lee, and Naruto wouldn't be there for her to fall back on. Then where would she be? Would she be able to keep standing? Would she fall? All she knew was that she would be alone. Her love would fail to keep the people she held dearest to her once again, and it was an all too-terrifying, paralyzing fear to confront.

Deidara's arms reached through the bars to hold her. Through the gaps in the metal, she could feel his warmth invade her skin. Funny how warm Deidara was, she thought to herself as her chest was wracked with awful heaving sobs. Her tears and snot were soaking his shirt and undoubtedly, she looked horrible, but he was polite enough not to mind. He held her and comforted her through it all.

Pulling away, she sniffled and wiped away at the tears with the heel of her gloved palm. "Your t-turn," she said brokenly, her chest still seizing painfully. God, she must look like an absolute wreck right now.

Deidara's lips pulled into a grim line. He waited until her sobs had quieted before speaking. "I'm afraid…of being inferior," he confessed and instantly, he was brought back to that awful memory; of that empty street; of the flock of ravens; of Itachi; of those cold, unfeeling eyes staring back at him. He hated those eyes. They mocked him for all that he was worth and unbidden, his body erupted into shakes as a seething hatred curled coldly in his stomach. Itachi…that bastard, though it didn't seem possible during this lifetime, he'd get him one day and on that day, Itachi would recognize him. He would look at him and see Deidara for who he was: an enemy, a human, and equal.

_Look at me…_

Sakura's hushed voice brought him back to reality. "Why are you so afraid of being inferior?" she asked, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand.

"I had an older brother," he explained, "My parents absolutely fucking adored him. He was perfect in every way. Early graduate of the Academy, handsome, smart, talented…but when it came to me, all I'd ever hear was why wasn't I more like my brother?"

He turned to her, eyes dead and bitter as he laughed hollowly in the back of his throat. "Did you know? My father looked at me the same way Itachi did when I found my calling in the arts."

The disappointment and hurt played clearly over his eyes as his hands played idly with the fabric of his pants. Pinching the dark fabric over his knees, he smiled emptily in the dead air.

"_I hate them both."_


	8. Chapter 8: Hatred

This was written on one of my really bad days. I'm not usually a bad person, but I was feeling very vindictive that day, along with a seething hatred for any and everything. It felt like something was literally trying to claw itself out of my body. I think we all have those feelings buried deep inside of us, the things we know are there but don't want to acknowledge. It's on those days that I hate myself most.

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Chapter 8: Hatred

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"What do you hate?"

The question was posed by Deidara, voice unusually silky for the man. Like him, the question was a tease, a temptation. It could either support her or ruin her depending on how she handled it.

She returned his daring smile with one of her own, chin poised deceivingly daintily on the back of her hand. "You," she answered easily.

Deidara laughed. "I'm being serious here."

She smiled. "So was I."

Deidara frowned, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. That game was getting boring anyway. "You know, I was being serious. You could at least be a little nicer to me, you know. I am dying soon."

Sakura snorted. "Tell someone who cares," she retorted shortly, straightening out the magazine in her hands with a loud flapping of the pages. Deidara winced; those poor sheets of paper.

"Geez pinkie, what crawled up your panties? Time of the month or something?"

"No!" she shouted, a deep blush spanning her cheeks. "My landlord still hasn't fixed the water heater. Bathing in a river would be warmer than the cold showers I take in the morning."

Deidara nodded to himself. Sakura had told him she had moved out of her parents' home when she reached Chuunin rank and got a steady paycheck from her missions and time at the hospital. Her apartment was in a middle-class neighborhood where the buildings were relatively new and the people were relatively nice. However, the same could not be said of her landlord.

Still…

"Bet you wish you were in my shoes. Even we get warm showers. Although, a cold shower doesn't sound too bad if you're in it," he said lecherously. Sakura scoffed.

"In your dreams," she snapped. "Ugh, it isn't even just my water. It's everyone in the building, but he's too cheap to get it repaired! Oh, when I get my hands on him…"

Deidara scoffed from his cell. "Oh please, pinkie. You and I both know you wouldn't kill him over something so petty."

Sakura glared down at him. Even if she wouldn't do something so frivolous, it stung to know he knew that fact so well. "And how do you know that? How are you so sure?"

Deidara smiled darkly. "Because you and I both know what hatred does. It burns you, stains you, consumes you and your entire being until all you know is the fire in your veins. We both know you don't have it in you to lose yourself to that because it negates love. There's no room for healing in hatred. It destroys your soul. It'll destroy you. Just like it destroyed your Sasuke."

Silence stretched between them after that; Deidara looked up to meet Sakura's gaze with a smirk. She looked ready to boil him alive.

"You take that back," she hissed.

Smiling up at her with a playful teasing that went nowhere to his eyes, he crawled up to the bars, his head cocked invitingly. _"Make me."_

Sakura narrowed her gaze and paused. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see her fingers twitch, just itching to wrap themselves around his neck and throttle the life out of him for all he was worth. Too bad for her, it wouldn't be much.

"Face it, pinkie. No matter how highly you think of yourself as a kunoichi, you're a healer. You just can't do it," Deidara commented as he relaxed against the back wall, hands pillowed under his head.

There was a pregnant pause, then… "I hate you."

Deidara stifled a chortle. "Sure, you do."

"No, really. I really hate you."

Again, Deidara chuckled. "Please. You can't hate me. I'm the only friend you got in this joint." Turning his eyes up to her, he smiled with interest, like a cat who had cornered a mouse. "But while we're on the subject…who _do_ you hate?"

"_You_—yes, I'm still saying you, you annoying tranny—my landlord—the cheap bastard—and—"

"I'm being serious. Even if you lack hatred, you can still hate someone. Come on, who makes your blood boil? Who would you kill if you had the chance?" he asked, his voice dropping to a teasing husky tone.

He stared through the bars, waiting for his answer. In her pregnant pause, the sounds of the prison filled the air. Rats squeaked as they ran past as the sounds of rattling chains shook the rafters. In the cell a few doors down, the same man he remembered hearing when he first came howled and cursed as he shook against the heavy bars of his cell. Eyes in her lap with her face knit in concentration, she gave her answer.

"I hate Sasuke." The statement was resolute and unwavering; her gaze remained in her lap, and he could see the deadly scenario being played out in the fabric of her tan skirt. Her hands balled into fists and he knew that under those gloves, her grip was knuckle-white. "I hate Sasuke for abandoning us; I hate Itachi for causing all this; and I hate Akatsuki for killing Gaara and trying to get Naruto."

"I hate my family and Itachi. At least we have that in common," he quipped, but Sakura continued as if she hadn't heard. He doubted she did.

"I hate that I couldn't stop him. Why am I so weak?"

"I hate that I'm so stupid."

"I'm clingy."

"I'm a loudmouth."

"I'm irrational and always follow my emotions instead of following my head."

Deidara smirked and gave a soft, amused sound. "Better than me. I'm quick-tempered and average in everything I do," he told her quietly. For the first time that day, she realized he had forgone his usual cloak and black pants. Instead, he wore a pair of prison-issue boxers and he'd forgone his usual black shirt for a white tanktop; in the back of her mind, she recalled it was laundry day in the prison.

She traced the lines of his shoulder blades with her eyes, dragging them over his form. One leg was pulled to his chest, serving as a resting point for his arms that pillowed his head. His slim torso poked out from under the fabric, showing the faint hints of the strong, yet frail bones that lay beneath. With his hair falling over his eye and the eerie light of the dirty bulbs above them, never had she seen him so vulnerable. He turned his head to her.

"But you know, following your heart isn't always too bad. At least yours leads you to the right places," he commented.

At his words, Sakura flushed pink with embarrassment. They stayed quiet for the rest of the day.


	9. Chapter 9: Humor

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update this story! Figuring out what to do for Deidara's prank was surprisingly hard. Only five more chapters left!**

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Chapter 9: Humor

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Squeak. Squeak.

A mouse ran along the back walls, crawling into whatever hole it could find as the hanging lights in the hallway swung their grimy light back and forth over the moisture-slick stones. From his cell, Deidara panted harshly, clutching his broken ribs to himself as he ran his tongue over the inside of his mouth for moisture, spitting when the taste of copper got too much for him.

"Bastards…" he hissed to himself, wincing when the fragments of broken bones shifted under the touch of his hand. Outside came the murmurs of the other prisoners and the howl of the man in one of the neighboring cells, but he ignored it, too busy trying to subdue the waves of pain resonating in his cracked skull.

"Fucking bastards…"

The creak of the iron door shifted his attention. Self-pity could come later.

"What do you want, pinkie?" he growled, his voice dripping with the hate and resignation that had come to fill his days. She might not have been the cause, but she sure as hell was an easy target.

"Shut up and don't move. Not that you can, anyway." The last part was muttered, but he knew she had said it for him to hear. Unfortunately for him, the bitch was right. Even though the guards that had led him back to his cell hadn't shackled him, his broken ribs and the spiral-fracture on his right leg made sure he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

His attentions were brought back to the present as the cool touch of her chakra melted into his side.

"Hands are a bit cold," he commented blandly, chuckling despite the jolt of pain that came with each husky exhale. She hummed thoughtfully.

"My apologies," she returned dryly, brows knit in concentration as she bowed her head closer to his wound. From this angle, he could see the crown of her head and where her hair split around her neck.

His hands began to rise at the sight. The pale delicate skin there beckoned to him. Like the rest of her body, it was slim and fragile and he felt his hands twitch at the mere thought of how it would feel in his grasp. Oh how easy it would be to _**snap it**_.

"Don't even think about it," she stated suddenly, jarring Deidara from his thoughts and causing his hands to waver. A cocky retort was just on the tip of his tongue, daring her to try and stop him, when he felt the tingle of chakra at his ribs. He didn't even have to ask to know what she would do; it lay unspoken between them. One false move from him, and she'd stop his heart faster than he could blink.

Smiling cockily to mask his shaken nerves, he chuckled and let his hands fall safely at his side. "Alright pinkie, you win. I'll be a good boy."

"I thought you'd say that," she said smiling as she pulled out from under his Akatsuki cloak and slid down his body to focus on his leg. Deidara shivered, feeling keenly the loss of her warmth from under his cloak.

'Damn, it's freezing in this cell. Wish laundry was done,' he thought despairingly as he stared at the muscled flesh peeking out between the flaps of cloak.

"Don't worry about covering up. I've seen a bunch of guys naked, a lot of them better looking than you."

"Who the hell would worry about you?" he shouted, glad the darkness could help hide his embarrassment. If Sakura saw it, she didn't comment, instead flexing his healed leg experimentally before fixing the shackles around his wrists. He didn't mind; he expected to be back in them eventually.

"So what brings you here? You're earlier than usual," he commented idly, glancing up to see her closing the cell door.

"I changed shifts with a friend today because I brought something to share with you," she explained easily before her green eyes hardened like glass. "And don't get used to it. This is a one time thing—for both reasons."

Deidara merely shook his head. He knew well enough that this was a one-time deal from her and hadn't expected anything different (In fact, he would've been more surprised if she told him this was permanent). Still…

"Gift?" he asked, curiosity piqued. "What kind of gift?"

Sakura looked away teasingly and looked up in thought. "I don't know…should I really share it with someone who tried to kill me three minutes ago?"

"I might be tempted to try again if you keep this up, pinkie."

"Oh really?" Sakura smiled down at him, her eyes glowing in the shadow of the light. Suddenly, her hand reached behind her back. "Well, I guess you don't want this then," she said as she held up a large, dark green bottle to the light by its neck, her other hand cradling the base.

Deidara's eyes widened in amazement. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had it. "How did you get that?" he asked incredulously, hands gripping the cell bars knuckle-white as he stared, unable to tear his eyes away from the tempting shape in her hands.

"Well, being the apprentice of a heavy-drinking Hokage comes with perks like managing her sake supply, and I figured you could use it after another round of Danzou-personal time," she replied easily, letting her fingers trace the glass lovingly. It was almost sad how easily she managed to get it (other kids her age required someone of age to get this for them), but the owner of the spirits shop knew her by first name from her many sake-runs and Tsunade wasn't so stingy as to not share it on occasion and she trusted Sakura to drink responsibly (Shizune was a completely different story to her).

Deidara, however, looked like he could care less on how she had procured the miracle liquid, too preoccupied by the bottle in her hands (and not open in front of him). Still, he felt himself awash with gratitude. He'd learned early on that prison was one of those things where you had to be crazy or drunk to enjoy, and though he was a self-professed nut, he was unfortunately still sane enough not to enjoy it (that howling guy on the other hand, sounded like he was having loads of fun). Now with booze, he felt his spirits lift. For a moment, he could escape the dark, dank hole they threw him in. He felt like kissing her feet and weeping with joy, and promised from that moment on, he would never say another bad thing about Haruno Sakura ever again.

Still looking at both her and the bottle adoringly, he sighed and smiled at her. "Did I ever tell you you were absolutely amazing, Sakura? Because you are."

At his sweet words, Sakura merely smirked. "I already knew that, but thank you for the compliment," she replied.

When she made no move to give him the bottle though, the frail, shivering thread of joy in Deidara began to quake with terror. Why wasn't she giving him the bottle?

"What do you want me to do, Sakura?" he pleaded, hands gripping the bars as he pressed his face against the metal. "What do you want? Do you want me to beg? Bark like a dog? I will. I have no shame in doing it."

Sakura gave a thoughtful, amused smile as if considering the proposal. After all, it would be highly amusing to see an S-rank Akatsuki member beg like a dog for a mere bottle of sake. However, Sakura was a better person than that and merely shooed him away.

"I just need you to move so I can open the door. This bottle won't fit into the slat, and I want some too."

Deidara quickly scrambled from the door, watching as Sakura pressed her hand against the seal, releasing it to reveal a tiny key-hole. Placing one of the keys on her impressive key-ring into the opening, she quickly opened the lock and slid the door open for her entrance. Adjusting her eyes to the darkness in the cell, she found Deidara against the left wall staring up at her and inclined her head.

"Scoot over, I want to sit too."

And as he edged over to make her a seat, Sakura reached behind her to shut the door, disappearing behind the bars.

* * *

"Think Danzou drinks?"

Deidara was the one who posed the question as Sakura refilled his small sake dish, placing the open bottle back on the ground between them. They had only just started drinking not too long ago when Deidara asked the question and while she was still fully capable of calm, rational thought from her increased tolerance to liquor (courtesy of her mentor and current Hokage), she was beginning to lose it to the warm, fuzzy feeling in her head.

Sakura, raising her own dish to her lips, pondered the idea thoughtfully. She had always wondered that too, but never had the leisure to pursue the idea. Now sitting in a prison cell with little more to do than drink and make small talk, she tried to imagine the dour man with a sake bottle. Unfortunately, the man's disposition was so grim, she could only come up with situations where he might have been drinking in commemoration for a friend and nothing more. He didn't even seem like the type to drink sake on New Year's.

The image of a crippled, hobbled Danzou weighing heavily on her mind, Sakura frowned deeply and shook her head of the thought. "No. He's too serious."

Deidara scoffed derisively. "Guess the stick up his ass is bigger than his cane."

At this, Sakura snorted into her dish with a laugh that made her sides ache. Wiping away the tears at the corner of her eyes, she fell back onto the wall feeling wonderfully relaxed. "That was a good one," she complemented.

Unused to her compliments, Deidara only blinked at first. After all, the pink-haired spitfire only had a few settings around him: healer, crying, angry, PMS-angry, and tease, and 'compliment' wasn't one of her settings. The shock made his mind go blank and he had to think back in order to remember what it was that made her laugh. Upon remembering it though, a secretive snicker only meant for the two of them escaped his lips.

"Yeah, that was pretty good, wasn't it?" he asked with a glance at her.

Sakura nodded in agreement. It was an adequate description of Danzou. "Know who else has a stick up his ass? Sasuke. I mean, I understand the revenge thing. I don't think there's a shinobi in Leaf who wouldn't feel the same, but for Kami's sake, would it kill him to smile? And I'm not talking about his half-assed smirking smile—I mean a real smile where I can see his teeth or more of his facial muscles working like when he was a kid. Freaking irritating," Sakura grumbled.

"Itachi too. Actually, you'd be surprised how many people are like that in Akatsuki. Basically me, Zetsu, and Hidan were the only ones with enough balls to mess around. There's Tobi too, but that kid is just an idiot. You know he tried to shake hands with a shark once when we were in Mist? It wasn't even a small shark or one of those toothless ones that would probably try and gum you to death. No! It was a 60-ft great white shark with an anchor in its mouth and Tobi tried to _shake hands with it._"

Though Sakura knew it was probably a bad idea to laugh given Deidara's obviously irritated tone, she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips. "It must have been cute to watch at least."

"You get chased through a mangrove by a shark that can mow down a forest after your idiot teammate pisses it off, then you can tell me it's cute!" he huffed petulantly as he refilled his dish with indignation. How could she say that when he almost got killed by Tobi wanting to play Snow White with a shark?

Deciding a little payback was in order, he leaned back against the wall and raised the dish to his mouth. "You must have a pretty sadistic sense of humor if you find my near-death experience funny," he said sipping the liquid.

The verbal barb wasn't lost on Sakura and inwardly, she sighed at his childishness. His ego was so sensitive, she thought with a groan. However, if he wanted to play that game, she'd play along.

"Oh, you don't even know the half of it," she began, waiting until she saw the tell-tale sign of his piqued interest. With the subtle turn of his head, he looked at her, inviting her to continue. At her small victory, she smiled and began her story.

"Okay, so you know how I'm apprenticing as a medic. While I'm not at the level of a full-time medic yet, I do get to do rounds to get experience. However, that means having to interact with a few…unsavory characters."

Glancing to her left to check if he was still with her, she saw with satisfaction that his dish now dangled lazily in his left hand over his raised knee and continued. "This was a patient of mine from two years ago. He hit on all the nurses and staff. Age didn't matter to him and he liked them young, so you can figure out that he went after me. I usually ignored it, but one day, he tried to grope me. I pushed him off and told the staff and they gave him a warning—two warnings means he'd get male nurses and medics for the rest of his visits—but he did it two more times. I was so sick of it! And then…"

"And then…?" Deidara asked.

"I put laxative in his lunch. Colonoscopy-strength laxative," she elaborated, enjoying with mirth as Deidara's eyes swelled up like dinner plates before bursting into laughter at the memory. "It was only one dose, but he didn't leave the bathroom until the middle of the next day. It was mean and Shizune found out and scolded me and put me on bedpan duty, but he never bothered me again."

Deidara, on the other hand, wasn't laughing. Instead, one of his eyes twitched uncontrollably while the rest of him looked oddly sick. "That's disgusting! You thought that was funny?"

"What, he deserved it! And yes, I thought it was funny. The rest of the staff did too—okay, maybe not Shizune and some of the older staff—but still!"

Still shocked that the pure, innocent girl actually had a darker, more twisted nature, Deidara covered his eyes with his hand. The world needed to go back to normal now.

Seeing Deidara obviously making preconceptions about her, Sakura huffed in annoyance. "Hey, it's not like I do this stuff all the time, and it was only funny because that creep deserved it. I laugh at other things too! I watch stand-up. I like romantic comedies—kind of. Depends on the story—and it's not like you haven't pulled a few pranks before either!"

"Well, at least you didn't say you liked slapstick," Deidara relented as he remembered disparagingly of Tobi's staunch advocation to the art of slapstick comedy. Personally, he was more of a dark comedy type.

"You are?" Sakura asked, and Deidara realized he'd spoken the sentiment out loud. The sake seemed to be loosening his lips.

"I may not look it, but my sense of humor is more dry and sarcastic—goes with the whole cynical, slightly crazed thing I have going on—although, I used to watch cartoons a lot back when we had a TV at home. If I was staying at a hotel and saw it on, I'd keep it on that channel. Some of the classic gags never get old."

Sakura nodded. She knew that feeling well; some of her favorite shows and books were old classics (some people had good taste in media, unlike _Ino_).

"You still haven't told me a prank you did. I already told you one of mine—and it was one I got in trouble for. You have to return it with a prank you got caught for. Equal exchange."

Deidara looked up in thought, trying to find a suitable pranking story to tell. However, he had played so many pranks over his lifetime that he didn't know which one to tell (as mature as pinkie was, she wouldn't want to know about some of his pranks. Frankly, he didn't want to remember them either). Suddenly, a faint reminiscent smile graced his lips.

"I got it."

Glancing to his side to see if Sakura was paying attention—good, she was—Deidara raised his dish to his lips and began his tale.

"Okay, this was just two years ago, but…I had just been assigned a new partner—Sasori—" At the name, Deidara paused and sent a wary glance towards the girl sitting next to him. While he hadn't been there to see the fight, Sakura had told him the details succinctly: they had fought, she had been stabbed, and Sasori eventually died. They both knew there was more to the story than that, but to her, the matter was done. To Deidara, it had only just begun; he knew the poisons Sasori liked to play with were nothing to sneer at. Their success rate for missions was high for that sole reason and Deidara desperately wanted to know how she survived, but whenever he asked, she would fall silent and look at the ground, hugging her stomach. On a few occasions, he would catch a glimpse of the dark scar on her abdomen when she got up from healing him, but she never actively showed him and he never let her know that he saw. This, combined with her unwillingness to talk, showed Deidara how badly the near-death experience had affected the kunoichi and silenced his lips on the subject forever.

While he hadn't mentioned the battle since he had originally vowed not to bring it up, he knew how words could trigger memory, and he watched Sakura's face from the corner of his eye as soon as he realized the mistake. However, aside from the tense straightening of her posture, she seemed fine; she took it better than he expected.

Turning slowly, Sakura looked up and forced a smile. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

Cautiously, Deidara turned back to his story. "Anyway, Sasori was my new partner. Our leader told me that Sasori would show me what to do, but whenever I tried to get near him, he'd take one look at me and ignore me. He hated the sight of me—he even took a chair from under me at dinner, making me fall and spill food on myself, just so I wouldn't sit next to him! Finally I got tired to his passive-aggressive bullshit and decided to get back at him. While I had played pranks on other people on my floor, I hadn't done one on Sasori because I had hoped he would respect me more if I didn't. Seeing how he wouldn't acknowledge my existence, I said screw it.

"So while he was out training with Itachi, I snuck into his room. He kept all his spare puppet parts in drawers and he always put the ones he was planning on using soon in the top drawer, so I stole one—I think it was a calf or a forearm or something—and replicated it with my exploding clay before putting it back and leaving. Later that night, as usual, he was working on his puppets and I hid outside and waited for him to open the drawer. As soon as he touched the piece—BAM! His dresser is in complete shambles, there're burnt shreds of clothing falling down in his room, and he comes out with a pair of pink heart-print boxers on his head with his face covered in soot looking absolutely _livid_."

Looking back on it, it wasn't as funny as he thought it would've been. Though he had gotten revenge on his passive-aggressive partner, he had to repay Sasori for all the damages, as well as the damages done to the room. Also, remembering the amount of clay he'd used, it was a miracle that he hadn't killed them both in that explosion.

As Deidara pondered the sudden gravity of his past act—because he_ had_ almost killed himself pulling that prank—the thought of whether Sakura found it funny passed his mind. The question pulled Deidara from his reverie with a start; he'd forgotten the entire purpose of telling Sakura that story of his misspent youth. She was supposed to laugh and he tensed with the fear of her reaction.

Luckily for him, Sakura had found the story hilarious and the cloud that had appeared over her face before had now melted away in the face of her soft, melodious laugh. Bent in half with tears in her eyes, she struggled to catch her breath as she turned to him. Wiping away the tear in her eye, she smiled. "That—that was…hilarious!" she said, bursting into another fit of laughter that made Deidara wonder if she was really just laughing or having a seizure.

'_Still, at least she thought it was funny,'_ he thought to himself in relief as he watched her struggle for breath. Watching her laugh so happily at his revenge, he found a smirk tug at his lips as a small chuckle escaped him. "I guess it is pretty funny."

"Are you kidding? That was genius!" she shouted and their cell was soon filled to the rafters with their laughter, drowning out all other sounds until they finally laughed themselves to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10: Sex

Sorry for my lack of updates. I've been getting more hours at work, and to be honest, my home life isn't that conducive for writing right now. The only reason I'm writing at the moment is because I'm so tired of everything and feeling borderline unstable, so I'm channeling my inner Deidara—the key to Conversations. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Raunchy stuff now, fluff is next chapter.

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Chapter 10: Sex

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"Are you gay?"

Deidara paused his spoon in mid-air. From the corner of his eye, he could see bits of his lunch—a piece of fish or some gruel or something (he stopped trying to guess anymore)—fall from his spoon back onto the tray as he stared at her blankly, trying to figure out how to respond to that question.

"Um…should you really be asking that while I'm eating?" he finally settled on as he placed his spoon back down on the tray, an uneasy quizzical look on his face. To be honest, he shouldn't have been so shocked that she would ask that—it was the second most popular question he got other than what gender he was, and Sakura had asked stranger questions before—but it seemed out of place to be asked that. In a jail cell. Eating lunch. By Sakura.

'_Really, sometimes I think the guys at Akatsuki have better manners than her—and Zetsu ate the table,'_ he thought grimly as a flashback of Zetsu devouring a table corner played in his mind.

"Does it really matter? It's a jail cell. Manners don't have any weight in here. Or did you forget about the tray-incident next door?"

The incident Sakura was referring to happened during the shift change a few weeks ago. The guard who was stationed after her, a burly thirty-something-yr-old man with a long jagged scar over his left eye, was collecting trays from the midday meal when he reached his howling neighbor. The man, obviously mentally unstable, refused to give it up, instead hugging to the back wall of his cell and hoarding it like a rat with cheese. The guard asked for it again, and for his troubles, the man shit in the tray, still hoarding it until the guard finally had to open the cell and retrieve it—Pinkie explained why to him once. Something about protocol, cost of trays and supplies for the prison being very costly, dangers of trays being fashioned into shanks or escape tools, blah-blah-blah. Honestly, they probably just didn't want to have to file the paperwork for a lost tray.—when the guy smashed the tray against the back wall, then attempted to stab the guard with his food-and-shit-smeared tray, making Sakura come back with two guards to take care of the situation. Oh yeah, he didn't forget. But still…

"Unlike that guy, I'm sane," he countered snootily, returning to his meal with a perfectly poised spoon. Sakura scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Tch, yeah right," she muttered under her breath.

"Watch it, pinkie," he snapped, eyes narrowing dangerously from over his shoulder. And it would've been a fairly dangerous display if it weren't for the fact that he was sitting down and she was standing up, giving her a good two-and-a-half feet of difference to smile down at him condescendingly. Behind her, the faint warning crackle of chakra made Deidara bite his tongue. He knew when he was beat. If only they were outside, then he could teach her. Hell, it'd only take a few minutes for him to corner and disarm her. It wouldn't be hard. All he had to do was set off a blast to knock her off her feet, catch her and pin her arms before she knew what hit her, and lock her body against a tree. She'd probably struggle, but a few clay bombs across her skin would show her who was in control. At the image of her smooth milky skin poised for the taking, the mouths in his hands salivated.

"So, gay or straight; which is it?" Sakura said, steering the conversation back to where it started. Normally, she wouldn't care—why would she care about the sex lives of other when she was busy studying for her medical exams and filing the village's paperwork?—but Deidara was special.

Deidara's sexual orientation had actually come up a lot during mission campfires when they had been searching for leads on Akatsuki, mostly because they had run out of things to talk about and no one wanted to hear another one of Naruto's ramen speeches or hear Sai talk in general. Once she found out she was assigned to be his guard, Sakura's mind supplanted the question in the back of her head on a whim—something to kill the time as she whittled the hours down until the blonde clay-user was finally sentenced to death and she could move on with her life with some more cash in her pocket. But now, the question was something she couldn't get her mind off of. Actually, Sakura found that Deidara was on her mind a lot more recently.

Annoyed that his pink-haired guard was still pushing her question—really, was this any way to treat her elders? Was this how far society had fallen?—Deidara had half a mind to just ignore her until her shift rang up, but thought against it. Partially because she might just pester him about it until he cracked (which is what she did sometimes when her magazines were done and he wouldn't supply her a response), but also because Deidara had grown fond of their conversations. Actually, they were the favorite part of his day—not that it really meant much given his circumstances, he told himself.

So it was with that train of thought that he answered quietly, "I'm bi," as he lifted the spoon back to his lips, his back still to the gate and her. There, it wasn't a complete surrender of his pride.

"Seriously?" she asked.

Deidara sucked on his spoon plaintively before taking it out to wave it around in his hand absentmindedly. "Well, I prefer girls, but I'll take my fun where I can."

After all, in their line of work when they could die at any moment, a bit of naughty fun with either sex could be quite stress-relieving and many shinobi commonly used sex as a way of escape besides alcohol. And to be honest, in a profession where sleeping with the enemy to gain information or to get closer to a target was the norm and one never knew if they would be seducing a member of the same or opposite sex, Deidara saw sexual orientation as straight or gay as somewhat of a luxury. To seek a sexual relation with a preferred sex was something a shinobi could do only in spare pockets of rest; and to do it on a regular basis was the luxury of a civilian. And as a member of an illegal crime ring who was always on the run or running to something with rarely any time to himself, why should he waste his valuable time being picky? He may have preferred women, but he'd still fuck a man any day if it meant getting laid. After all, though it was a different matter concerning art, a bang was a bang.

Suddenly, he was at the bars, turning his head playfully at her that, if Sakura had anything to say about it, was almost…cute. "So what's your kink, pinkie?"

Instantly, her mind shot to that accursed jutsu Konohamaru did of Sasuke and Sai. Sasuke might have been a heartless bastard and Sai was one of those people who was better off seen and not heard, but together, the two were electrifyingly and devastatingly hot. Then again, it was hard not to be as two of the handsomest shinobi men Sakura had the pleasure of ever knowing. Even Deidara wasn't half bad, and her mind began to wander down that dark sordid path of his late-night liaisons. Of how he probably played dominant more often; of quick, dirty fucking-sessions in the back alleys and sleazy motel rooms; of how his multitude of tongues set a symphony of pleasure in his partner's bodies. And somewhere in a corner of her mind, she wondered how it would feel if those tongues were on her.

Instantly, Sakura pulled back from her mind, her shrill shriek of surprise echoing the walls as a blush as bright and pink as her hair spanned her entire face to creep down her neck.

Deidara laughed. "You should see how pink you are! You're so embarrassed. You're such a virgin…haha! I'm dying…I'm dying…" he said breathlessly as tears stung his eyes and he hugged his stomach because she was so embarrassed! She was so virginal that it was adorable. If this was how she reacted to just _talking_ about sex, what would her reaction actually be in bed?

Sakura merely held her tongue, cupping a hand over her mouth. She had no intention of correcting Deidara about the cause of her thoughts. If he thought she was some sheltered, prudish virgin, then so be it. She had more important things to deal with, like the morbidly-fascinating scenario she just thought up because she just imagined having sex with a wanted felon from the bingo book. One that she had been talking to for weeks now and had three tongues! Three tongues were _not_ normal! But then again, neither was her fantasy. Instantly, an image of her pinned against the wall by Deidara as the wicked tongue in his right hand ventured elsewhere appeared in her mind's eye, drawing a deeper blush of mortification to her face. What did she just…

Laughter dying, Deidara looked up at her with a bright smile as he wiped the tears from his eyes and the last bits of the aching pains in his side faded away. At the horrified squeak that escaped her lips when he locked eyes on her, a chuckle escaped him.

"You're really cute, you know that?" he told her, drawing an even deeper blush from the girl. Deidara merely smiled, overjoyed and mirthful at her obvious discomfort because she was so easy to tease. It should've been a crime for how much fun it was, but even if it was a felony and he wasn't in jail, Deidara probably wouldn't have stopped. The refreshing honesty in her personality was too addicting; the blush on her face too cute to want to stop, and briefly he wondered how far down her body that pink blush could go.

However, taking one look at her face told him to stop. Her face was as red as the clouds on his cloak and any more teasing would probably make her faint. So instead, as the last waves of mirth floated from his system and Sakura's cheeks looked a little less pink—something Deidara was sad to see—he draped himself lazily over the cell bars and changed tactics, looking up at her with a relaxed, charming smile. "You're really touchy about sex, aren't you?"

"N-no!' Sakura shouted, eyes hardening defensively. "I'll have you know that I've taken the kunoichi classes for—_what?"_ she asked at his incredulous look.

Deidara merely sighed. She couldn't be serious, right? "Pinkie, you're so pure, it hurts. Those classes don't teach you anything. You've probably haven't even gotten your first kiss yet."

At his words, Sakura spluttered, shocked by the insinuation. "Those classes do teach you things! They teach how to hide a needle in a corset and all the erogenous zones in the body. And I have _so_ had my first kiss!" she said testily. Of course, what she didn't tell him was that she'd only gone to those classes because they were mandatory and that her first (and only) kiss had been awkward and disappointing, and a part of her refused to kiss any more people because she was saving her other kisses for Sasuke when he returned. Indeed, that was the same part that blamed her for the disappointing nature of her only kiss, because she hadn't saved her first kiss for the dark-haired boy she kept in her heart, ruining everything. In return, the rest of her wished nothing more than that part to just go jump in a hole and die.

Unaware of the conflict inside her, Deidara looked at her with half-lidded entreating eyes, a hand reaching out to her as his voice dropped to a deep, husky tone. "Then you should know how lacking those classes are. Theory is, after all, different than practice and while you can learn how to kiss and where to touch to bring the most pleasure, knowing how to do it and doing it are two different things. After all, those classes don't teach you how to taste the differences in a kiss; how to pleasurable a simple touch can be; how fulfilling that tight, stretched feeling can be…"

As he spoke, a hand trailed lazily up the smooth expanse of her leg, the tongue in his hand lolling slightly, leaving wet trails of saliva on her skin before it seemed to grow curious and agitated at its new surroundings, licking and sucking at the skin above her ankle. Staring dazedly as she felt her lids lower and her breathing hitch, she felt her heart pound and she wondered if this was really happening, if she would really get her first hickey on her leg from an S-class Nin. But his voice was whispering the ghosts of dark fantasies and forbidden pleasures that wrapped around her like satin sheets, distracting her. What had she been doing before?

But before she could pursue that idea, before she could grab that hand and force it higher to do more wonderfully confusing things to her body, he pulled his hand away and she nearly moaned at its loss.

"See. Feels different from what they teach you in those classes now, doesn't it?" His voice was still dark and tempting, but she could detect a slight breathlessness in his voice as he spoke. It seemed he had been affected by their little moment together too. Good.

"Sex, if you do it right, will feel a million times better than what I just did to your leg. Keeping that in mind, if you could have sex with anyone, who would it be? Name three."

Sakura looked up in thought. The dreaming child who still believed in fairytale romances picked Sasuke and if she had to admit it, she'd been saving that part of herself also. Sai was a practical choice because she knew he wouldn't get emotionally attached and sleeping with teammates was always a little bit easier since they would have some idea of boundaries and what the other person liked, but the third one…

"I'd pick Sasuke, Sai, and if it had to come to it…Kakashi," she answered.

Deidara blinked in surprise. "You picked your teacher and not that yellow-haired brat loudmouth who you keep following?"

Sakura merely shrugged. It wasn't like she was immune to the appeal of a forbidden student-teacher romance, and it was common to develop a crush on someone that held such an important role in shaping you, as well as the amount of time spent together with that person. But really…

"Naruto's like a brother to me. Even if I tried—and trust me, _I've tried_—I just can't...I just can't think about him in that way."

Sakura couldn't tell Deidara how many months she tried liking the guy, how many hours she'd spent awake night after night telling herself to give up on Sasuke and attempt to look at Naruto with a fraction of the feelings he felt for her.

And it wasn't for a lack of trying. She would stay up late, come to lessons and training practices antsy and exhausted from sleep deprivation thinking about it. She snuck glances at his face from the corners of her eyes at lunch, forced her hands to stray a second longer as the words "Like him. Like him," repeated endlessly in her mind.

Even as she slept, the mantra would echo and warp in her skull, trying to force its way into her every cell just like Sasuke had until her very existence depended on him. She was desperately trying to like him, to find solace in his presence, to find the sunshine in his smile and feel her knees buckle and quake when he smiled at her, to have her breath stolen time and time again by the very fact he was alive and with her…but the feelings never came and she felt more lost and hollow for it. It was hopeless, and she knew it. Why?

Because as much as she loved Naruto and knew he loved her, knew she owed him more than mortal lives could repay, and wanted desperately to be happy in the sunshine of his smile, Naruto had no place in the secret, most sacred place tucked deep in her heart. That dark, throbbing, agonizing room in her heart was occupied by Sasuke, locked firmly shut with a long-lost key, and the best Naruto could ever hope for was the position of close friend and brother. And it was a thought that was hard to swallow because Sakura knew she would never be happy, but she couldn't do a thing to change it. Sasuke, despite three years gone from her sight leaving only his shadow as bait to tempt, tease, and torture her, owned her body and soul, and only he would have the key to her heart. But people were foolish in love, and wasn't love nothing but the sweetest of temptations and most divine of tortures?

Feeling tears sting the corners of her eyes, she quickly dabbed them away—Deidara looked like he was going to start pitying her again and she couldn't stand it when the S-class Nin was actually moved enough to feel sorry for her—and plastered a smile on her face. "Your turn. Name your top three picks."

Sakura was still sniffling and Deidara gave a slight grimace. He wanted to stay on the subject a little bit longer, if only to console her—he never knew she'd cry about this—but he knew when to take a hint and pushing the sounds of her sniffling aside, he looked up in thought wondering who he should pick. In the confines of his cell, any woman would do, but who did he want most splayed out under him? Who did he see when he shut his eyes and let his hands slip down to touch himself? Whose skin did his tongues crave to taste, his eyes dreamed to see with an arched back and hot dripping center speared by his body? Who would scream his name over and over again in a fit of ecstasy as he filled her body over and over again with thick globs of semen that would coat her insides and mar her flesh a glistening pretty white?

"Well, there's that girl in Akatsuki, but she's Pein's girl—completely off-limits—so I guess that Anko woman, your Hokage with the huge rack, and…_you."_

As he spoke, an image of her pretty-pink head below his belt flashed in his mind, her lips sucking him like her favorite candy before another image interrupted, seedier with her body glistening with sweat and soaked with the smell of sex as he entered her from behind yet again, body opening easily to his intrusion as his hand pulled her hair to easier meet the voice whispering dirty endearments in her ear. At his sordid fantasies, he smiled to himself with predatory intent and watched with enjoyment as her eyes widened in shock and a pretty pink dusted her cheeks. Briefly, he wondered if she could see herself in his mind, bent-double with her ass in the air and moaning his name like some cheap whore.

Sakura lifted a hand to her mouth, eyes widening as her mind reeled with Deidara's newfound list of top three women he wanted to have sex with. The first two made sense to her; Anko was a renowned nymphomaniac in the village while Tsunade had experience in spades. Plus, their chests were huge! Which made her, as the small-chested, still-in-puberty virgin 15-yr-old, the anomaly in the group. Because really, she was the complete opposite of his type with lush breasts and sinful curves, so why was she anywhere on his list?

She looked at him entreatingly, her deer-in-the-headlight eyes silently begging for an answer for this madness which he answered with a soft, husky chuckle. Why indeed?

To be honest, Deidara wasn't very sure either. Sakura wasn't his type at all with her lack of a noticeable chest, short stature, and young age; and he knew he wasn't suddenly turning into some pedophilic hack lolicon. But still, there was something to be said about the pink-haired kunoichi. Maybe it was the fact her coloring was a rare novelty, or the fact he was just the kinky sort of bastard to get off on a prisoner-guard relationship even if she was younger than him, or the fact she was so innocent that she begged to be played with.

Or maybe it was because she was so responsive to his teasing and his touches that she was sure to be a bit of fun in bed, or because she was so refreshingly untouched in her virginal behavior that it would be pure joy to teach her the more sinful side of pleasure. Or maybe it was just because he wanted to see his little spitfire kunoichi guard come apart at the seams in his arms and watch her go out with a burst of color, sense, and sound rivaling his work in beauty, an artist teasing majesty from a blank canvas.

But explaining that to his young, naïve guard seemed like such a chore; especially under her suddenly-wary, distantly-accusing eyes as she eyed him like some sort of monster. So instead, he melted steel into his voice and forced his lips into what he deemed was a more-appropriate irritated scowl.

"Because pinkie, I've been stuck in a jail cell for Kami-knows-how-long with nothing but you to look at and my hand isn't doing it for me anymore!" he gruffly explained, flicking her forehead for good measure. At the sudden sharp pain to her skin, Sakura drew back with a yelp before batting at him playfully, all wariness of him dropped, and he was glad that their difference in age had let him hone faking his expressions a bit more than her.

Drawing back from the bars away from her batting hands, Deidara tried to hold back the smile at his lips at the return of her light-hearted attitude.

"Besides, it's sort of morbid to do _that_ in a jail cell—the dripping walls and creepy neighbors ruin the atmosphere—so it gets a bit desperate here. Hell, I'd even do it with that chick that looks like me, even if she's a bit of a bitch from what you tell me and it would be essentially have sex with a female version of me. I mean, can you imagine how fucking awkward that would be?" he asked pointedly, and a silence stretched between them as they both looked at each other and tried to imagine the scene in their heads, only to burst out laughing.

It would be pretty ridiculous, they agreed.


End file.
